"intermitent" poems
There were four pines,
Straight, that branched
Out over the hedge
With holes.
High beside
The cement goldfish pond
They stood, near the fence
And alleyway.
From our rows
Of potatoes,
And needed weedings,
A hedge ran across
The back, connecting
The Tehtercotts and Taylors;
We worked the garden
Beneath the line
Of drying clothes,
Throughout our summers,
Beneath the shade,
And the intermitent shadow.
***** blades heeled
Into mounds,
We five posed
For this poem
Half a century ago.
Over the hedge
Carriages and bikes
Rolled between houses
With porches,
And patios,
Leading to lawns.
Near Kevin's *****
A red and white rubber ball
Had landed,
From beyond the hedge.
He turned it over
With a shovel of dirt,
And broke the sod
With his blade.
He was distracted,
Singing us a Beatles song.
But it wouldn't have mattered.
Apr 13, 2015
Apr 13, 2015 at 10:43 PM UTC
When I was a child, I was told to be good,
We were never the most amazing children forward from conception.
We tried to please. Compliments were scarce, but not unnoticed.
In my disengaging years, I was clever enough in school to pass (all but one or two usually did). I'm into life-long learning. I didn't get to grade two because I was seven.
It was never suggested that I might be the smartest, most prodigious brain in school, any school in any district in North America. No one framed my finger paintings and straw art.
I was okay in sports. Most sports. Never got a Participants' Ribbon. Make the team or get cut. Pass the ball or get benched. My parents never knew the coach's name, usually didn't know where the game was played. Do something else. Practice. Oh, and the medals, trophies and team pictures are lots of fun.
And, you will handle them every so often, and remember...
Later, I found out I wasn't ugly. I've my share of blemishes, but there are plenty of kisses and dates out there to go around. Trust me.
I wasn't described as David, recently stepped off his dais, or, the heartbreak of thousands, the man you want to be in the mirror. Actually, we all look much like yourself... the same.
No one told us to be clever with money. That, if it existed, belonged to my parents. I didn't get any. I did take out some garbage cans for two old girls on Tuesdays, for fifteen cents. Ask Boomers about their jobs. There's lots of stories about earning money.
We belonged to the Age of Entitlement. Grew and matured expecting a good education, a fair wage for a fair job, a planet to live on with some intermitent world peace.
You are entitled to the same, Dear Millenials.
The same way. It works wonders.
And don't tell anyone (especially your kids) they're ******* Royalty.
We know how Majesty ends.
Jun 30, 2017
Jun 30, 2017 at 9:03 AM UTC
Black Pearl
Strung Together Secret
Of An Intermitent Doorway
Comes and Goes
Comes and Goes
Dot Dot Dot
One After the Other
Emergent Hope
Pressed
Birth Secret
Pleasure
Of Another Time
Sep 12, 2016
Sep 12, 2016 at 7:44 PM UTC
A year ago life was perfect
six months ago life became a hell
today I¨m lost in time and space
I remember dying after seen that smile for the last time
dead stoped my tears, lies stoped my heart
Living now in this earth
my mind floating out in space
waiting for my next death
I¨ll never be prepared
it is what it is
and whatever will be will be.
Mar 16, 2014
Mar 16, 2014 at 5:47 PM UTC
and drops come as if the twilight of a love
from observing a roach
this particular night spent
as a locust or a miriad of intermitent desires
my blue is as usual present
no pleasure felt no more
in the border on infinite space i dwell
to not being a drop for all eternal sound
myriad window and a sigh we echo
only the prize to follow in the lonelly road
finding nothing but "i'ss" I I I followed by I
Oct 2, 2014
Oct 2, 2014 at 3:01 AM UTC